Lyrics to Booked Summer
I just drunk a pint of Trish, feel it in my bladder
Bitch got cheeks, I'ma smash her
Bitch tried to leave on me, had to grab her
Call me Michael Myers, I'll stab her
Five thousand for a Peli coat with the rabbit fur
Why you lookin' in the ashtray? You a scavenger
Me and Mike slid out his bitch car, it was an Avenger
The lil' Dodge dude
Yeah, I know your pops, I know moms too
I was hittin' that
Like lil' nigga, when you was in diapers, I was sippin' Act
You couldn't even grab a knife and I could get a strap
Told my bitch, 'I'm goin' to the feds, so go get a strap'
Basically what I'm sayin', you gay 'til I'm gettin' back
'Til I get back, this a six-pack
I don't really like the shoes, this a Rick hat
Walked in the Gucci store, spent a knick-knack
Walked out with one bag, what you get, Jack?
This the one y'all kept askin' me, 'Where you get that? How you get that'?
Bitch, I was gone a month, how you get cracked in thirty days?
You would take a pint, drink it thirty ways
You niggas pour half in lines
He just told a lil' bitch he dropped half a dime
Call him five cent
Nigga, fuck your kids 'cause mine's rich
When I come to think about it, they say Ike snitched
That shit in his veins
I really don't trust niggas who be hittin' caine
I think I'm finna stop rappin', this shit gettin' lame
'Cause these niggas ain't rappin', they don't feel the same
These niggas think shit a game
They was lookin' to the left, we came a different way
Nigga jumped on his car with a whole drac
Hit him twice, took off his whole face
Nigga, they shoot Ubers up, so don't ride share
I kinda love Atlanta, wanna die here
They let me out December 11th, this my year
Still talkin' wet, go get a dryer
When I mix Tris with the Quaegen I get higher
Nigga, I'm independent, I'm with EMPIRE
Your friend kinda ugly, but my friend like her
She look like she smoke meth like a damn biker
I done poured a four of Act in a can Spriter
Fuck around, spend forty racks, a can-am Spyder
I don't even drive it
I leave my jewelry layin' out
I don't even hide it, I got insurance on it
Bud said he grew the weed, but it's curin' Sunday
Hop on a bitch with the pump, call me Bugs Bunny
My son don't want no toys, he just love money
He got a hundred racks on him, okay, lil' money
And I ain't talkin' 'bout the shit they took from me
When can't nobody get drank, I find Snook number
I'm finna pop another Perc, make me look dumber
This nigga talkin' 'bout a show, I gotta booked Summer
I got a dog walk her ass, but fuck Summer
Talkin' 'bout she don't listen to the Detroit music
I'm from Flint, but bitches in Detroit do it
No a days I don't say shit, I just point to 'em
I ain't sign to EMPIRE, we did a joint venture
Ayy, you thought it was a gram, it was a .6-er
My white boy that get drank look like Pointdexter
Since he actin' like a buffalo, clap his horns together
This new Za shit cool, I like corns better
Bae, she got some good pussy, but yours wetter
I just had to inform you
Fuck the rain, outside we'll storm too
I heard they payin' 75 for the orange dude
'Cause they can't press 'em
I make a hundred racks a day, nigga, I ain't stressin'
Wasn't no dope in the crib, they found nine weapons
And like five switches
Just know I'd really love you if I cried to you
Aunty don't do fentanyl all butter
Bitch got cheeks, I'ma smash her
Bitch tried to leave on me, had to grab her
Call me Michael Myers, I'll stab her
Five thousand for a Peli coat with the rabbit fur
Why you lookin' in the ashtray? You a scavenger
Me and Mike slid out his bitch car, it was an Avenger
The lil' Dodge dude
Yeah, I know your pops, I know moms too
I was hittin' that
Like lil' nigga, when you was in diapers, I was sippin' Act
You couldn't even grab a knife and I could get a strap
Told my bitch, 'I'm goin' to the feds, so go get a strap'
Basically what I'm sayin', you gay 'til I'm gettin' back
'Til I get back, this a six-pack
I don't really like the shoes, this a Rick hat
Walked in the Gucci store, spent a knick-knack
Walked out with one bag, what you get, Jack?
This the one y'all kept askin' me, 'Where you get that? How you get that'?
Bitch, I was gone a month, how you get cracked in thirty days?
You would take a pint, drink it thirty ways
You niggas pour half in lines
He just told a lil' bitch he dropped half a dime
Call him five cent
Nigga, fuck your kids 'cause mine's rich
When I come to think about it, they say Ike snitched
That shit in his veins
I really don't trust niggas who be hittin' caine
I think I'm finna stop rappin', this shit gettin' lame
'Cause these niggas ain't rappin', they don't feel the same
These niggas think shit a game
They was lookin' to the left, we came a different way
Nigga jumped on his car with a whole drac
Hit him twice, took off his whole face
Nigga, they shoot Ubers up, so don't ride share
I kinda love Atlanta, wanna die here
They let me out December 11th, this my year
Still talkin' wet, go get a dryer
When I mix Tris with the Quaegen I get higher
Nigga, I'm independent, I'm with EMPIRE
Your friend kinda ugly, but my friend like her
She look like she smoke meth like a damn biker
I done poured a four of Act in a can Spriter
Fuck around, spend forty racks, a can-am Spyder
I don't even drive it
I leave my jewelry layin' out
I don't even hide it, I got insurance on it
Bud said he grew the weed, but it's curin' Sunday
Hop on a bitch with the pump, call me Bugs Bunny
My son don't want no toys, he just love money
He got a hundred racks on him, okay, lil' money
And I ain't talkin' 'bout the shit they took from me
When can't nobody get drank, I find Snook number
I'm finna pop another Perc, make me look dumber
This nigga talkin' 'bout a show, I gotta booked Summer
I got a dog walk her ass, but fuck Summer
Talkin' 'bout she don't listen to the Detroit music
I'm from Flint, but bitches in Detroit do it
No a days I don't say shit, I just point to 'em
I ain't sign to EMPIRE, we did a joint venture
Ayy, you thought it was a gram, it was a .6-er
My white boy that get drank look like Pointdexter
Since he actin' like a buffalo, clap his horns together
This new Za shit cool, I like corns better
Bae, she got some good pussy, but yours wetter
I just had to inform you
Fuck the rain, outside we'll storm too
I heard they payin' 75 for the orange dude
'Cause they can't press 'em
I make a hundred racks a day, nigga, I ain't stressin'
Wasn't no dope in the crib, they found nine weapons
And like five switches
Just know I'd really love you if I cried to you
Aunty don't do fentanyl all butter
